Gideon Adler—formerly known as Gellert Grindelwald, reformed dark wizard and current member of the "People Who Regret Their Life Choices" club—stood in front of the glowing orb like he was facing the world's most expensive disco ball. His stormy blue eyes, sharp enough to cut glass, flicked over the details, analyzing the glowing sphere with the intensity of a professor at an all-you-can-eat buffet. You could almost see the cogs turning behind those eyes, like he was either solving a great mystery or figuring out how to tell everyone else they were about five steps behind.
Finally, after a dramatic pause that had everyone in the room wondering if he was going to pull out a crystal ball and start lecturing about the "greater good," Adler spoke.
"Alchemy."
Tony Stark blinked, then tilted his head. "I'm sorry, what now? Did we just time travel to the 1600s?"
Adler didn't even flinch. "That," he said, pointing dramatically at the ominous, glowing orb on the screen, "isn't just raw energy. This thing's been altered, refined. This is alchemy at work. Someone with serious skill created this... thing."
Steve Rogers—Captain America, living embodiment of 'I'm just trying to do the right thing,' frowned, his arms crossing in that way that made him look like a guy who could hold the world on his shoulders but would rather not. "Alchemy? As in... turning lead into gold?"
Adler didn't even bother hiding the disgust in his eyes. "That's like calling your super-soldier serum 'just a vitamin shot,' Captain."
Steve blinked, visibly taken aback. "Okay, that was a low blow."
Tony snorted. "Yeah, that definitely deserves a gold star for 'Most Passive-Aggressive Response of the Year.'"
"Not that I'd know anything about being passive-aggressive," Steve muttered under his breath.
Harry, who had been leaning casually against the back of the couch like he was waiting for a bad guy to walk in and hand him a villain monologue, rolled his eyes. "Alright, Adler. Let's cut to the chase. Who's actually good enough at alchemy to pull this off?"
Adler sighed, rubbing his temples like he had just walked into a room full of bad decisions. "Three people. Only three."
Tony groaned. "Oh, great. This is going to be one of those fun scenarios where one of them is already dead, one's a ghost, and the last one is working for Hydra, isn't it?"
Adler steepled his fingers like some kind of dark wizard preparing to deliver some awful news. "Well, first, there's Nicholas Flamel."
Harry immediately let out a loud, unrestrained snort. "Flamel? That guy's older than dirt. He can't even get out of bed without a team of witches giving him a spell to get his joints moving. I'm pretty sure he's about as interested in world domination as a sleepy tortoise."
"Agreed," Adler said, rubbing his chin. "Flamel is brilliant, but he's retired—like, really retired. His best days are behind him. He wouldn't touch something like this with a ten-foot broomstick."
"Next?" Natasha Romanoff asked, her voice sharp, casual, and terrifyingly composed as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She was already planning her next move in her head, and it was clear she'd rather be out hunting criminals than listening to Adler's history lecture.
Adler's expression darkened, but he didn't falter. "Albus Dumbledore."
At that, Steve straightened like he'd been hit with a bucket of cold water. Tony blinked, then looked at Bucky, his face half-grim, half-intrigued. "Oh, that Dumbledore. The one that James and Sirius toldl me about? Long-bearded, twinkle-eyed wizard, the one who is basically the Gandalf of Hogwarts. Can't really picture him teaming up with Hydra."
"Exactly," Adler agreed, and Harry swore he saw the tiniest flicker of bitterness in his eyes. "Dumbledore is a master manipulator, yes. A brilliant one, but even he has his limits. If he thought helping Hydra was for the 'greater good,' he'd much prefer to lecture them about the error of their ways instead of actually getting involved."
Harry let out a breath, half-relieved, half-irritated. "Okay, so that leaves… one."
Adler's eyes narrowed, a shadow of something darker crossing his face. "Yes. A lesser-known name, but one I remember clearly. During my time at Durmstrang, there was a student. Brilliant. Gifted in alchemy beyond his years, but… unstable."
"Unstable?" Bucky asked, eyebrows raising in suspicion. "Like, 'I throw tantrums when I can't get my coffee' unstable, or 'I create doomsday devices in my free time' unstable?"
"Take your pick," Adler muttered, not even bothering with a smile. "His name was Erik Eisenhardt."
The room fell silent. You could've heard a pin drop. Or, in the case of this team, the sound of everyone trying to process that information.
Tony squinted at Adler like he was trying to see if he was joking. "First of all, that's a Bond villain name. Second, did you say he's unstable?"
Bucky's face hardened with his usual blend of sarcasm and skepticism. "Unstable genius? Yeah, Hydra would love him. Sounds like their type. Give him a lab, a few test tubes, and next thing you know, we've got an apocalypse on our hands."
"Exactly," Adler said, his voice low and dangerous. "Eisenhardt was obsessed with pushing alchemy to its limits. He didn't just want to turn metal into gold—he wanted to reshape reality itself. I lost track of him decades ago, but if he is behind this orb, we're dealing with something far worse than just a new power source."
Harry raised an eyebrow, the usual swagger back in his voice. "Worse? Like how? Define 'worse,' because I've seen some bad things in my life, and frankly, I'm not interested in adding another world-ending disaster to my list of things to avoid."
Adler looked at him, expression dead serious. "If Eisenhardt perfected his work, this isn't just a power source. It's a philosopher's stone on steroids—something that could alter time, space, and even magic itself."
The group exchanged a look. Even Tony Stark, ever the optimist, had the decency to look concerned. Rhodey, who'd been quietly observing everything, let out a sharp breath. "So, we're looking at an apocalypse-level disaster if we don't stop this, huh?"
Steve's jaw clenched as he stepped forward. "Where is he?"
Adler's lips twisted into a tight, grim smile. "That's the tricky part." He glanced at Harry, who'd been quiet for a second. "But if I had to bet? He's with Hydra. Willingly."
Harry groaned, rubbing his temples. "Oh, fantastic. Another lunatic playing mad scientist. Just what I needed today. Can someone please make my life easier for once?"
"Join the club," Tony muttered with a shrug. "We've got jackets."
Fury, who had been eerily silent for most of the conversation, finally stepped forward, his voice low and calm, yet full of the kind of authority that made people want to listen. "Alright. We track Eisenhardt down. We stop whatever the hell this is before it turns into the next apocalypse."
Adler nodded grimly. "Then we better move quickly. Because if Eisenhardt has perfected his work, stopping him may not be an option."
Harry crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well, then I guess it's a good thing we've got a bunch of badass geniuses in this room. I'm feeling pretty confident we'll make it interesting."
"I love it when he's confident," Tony said, clapping Harry on the back. "Let's go save the world, shall we?"
And just like that, the team was in motion. Because, as everyone knew, when a team of superheroes and a reformed dark wizard teamed up, it was about to get real interesting.
—
Gideon Adler—formerly Gellert Grindelwald, ex-dark lord, current SHIELD consultant, and reigning world champion of Regretting His Life Choices—was about to do something incredibly stupid.
He was going to call in a favor.
An old favor. A dangerous favor.
The kind of favor that made Steve "Golden Retriever with a Shield" Rogers frown disapprovingly, Bucky "Perpetually Tired Murder Machine" Barnes smirk knowingly, and Tony "Sass in a Suit" Stark complain about the WiFi.
Speaking of which—
"I swear to God," Tony announced, dramatically stabbing at his phone screen. "If I have to refresh this page one more time—"
Harry leaned over. "Tony, are you seriously trying to order shawarma right now?"
"Hey, stress-eating is a thing. If I'm gonna deal with magic, cryptic old men, and potential world-ending disasters, I want good takeout."
Steve exhaled through his nose, the way a man who had fought Nazis and survived the Great Depression did when confronted with Stark nonsense. "Can we focus, please?"
Harry, of course, immediately snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, sir, Captain America, sir!"
Bucky snorted. "He's got your number, punk."
Meanwhile, Adler—who had perfected the fine art of ignoring their collective stupidity—stepped toward the center of the room, where a rune-carved stone rested on a reinforced table. With a flick of his wrist, a golden flame flickered to life in his palm, swirling and shifting like something alive.
Jarvis, ever the refined AI butler, chimed in through the speakers. "Sir, I believe our wizardly consultant is about to perform what the ancient scholars referred to as 'very sketchy magic.'"
"Good," Tony said, leaning back. "I was worried we'd have to do this the boring way."
Rhodey crossed his arms. "You mean, like, with actual intelligence work?"
"Exactly."
Adler rolled his eyes (a very dignified eye-roll, naturally) and murmured something in German. The runes flared to life, glowing an eerie blue. A shimmering image flickered above the stone—a hooded figure, their features obscured by shadow.
A deep, rough voice echoed through the room.
"Grindelwald. For someone who's supposed to be over a hundred, you don't look a day over forty."
Adler smirked. "Moisturizer. You should try it, Falk."
Harry, being Harry, immediately leaned toward Erica and whispered, "Ooooh, mysterious."
Erica, bless her, barely managed to stifle a laugh.
The shadowy figure shifted slightly. "I thought you were dead."
"Common mistake," Adler replied smoothly. "I find death terribly inconvenient."
Bucky muttered, "Yeah, tell me about it."
Steve gave him a look. Bucky just shrugged.
Adler pressed on. "I need information, Falk. About Eisenhardt."
Cue dramatic pause. Even through the distortion, they could tell Falk had tensed.
Falk exhaled slowly. "Eisenhardt… That is a name I have not heard in years."
Adler's expression didn't change, but there was something… sharp in his gaze. "Then you do know something."
Falk hesitated. "Tell me, Grindelwald—do you remember what I once told you about men who try to reshape reality?"
Adler's jaw tightened. "Yes."
Falk's voice turned grim. "Then you already know the answer. Eisenhardt is a ghost. He disappeared decades ago."
Tony sighed. "Why is it always the crazy ones that go full Houdini?"
"Trade secret," Natasha deadpanned.
Harry, however, had narrowed his eyes. His magic was humming in his veins, reacting to something—something off. He tilted his head, watching the flickering projection.
"He's lying."
Steve glanced over. "You sure?"
Harry didn't look away. "Positive. His words and his magic don't match."
Adler arched a brow. "How very perceptive."
Harry smirked. "You say that like it's a surprise."
Adler turned back to the projection. "Falk. I understand your hesitation. But I am not the only one seeking Eisenhardt."
A beat of silence. Then—
"He was seen in Prague."
Steve straightened immediately. "That's a lead."
Falk's voice lowered. "Be careful, Grindelwald. Eisenhardt has changed. He is no longer the man you once knew."
Adler's expression darkened. "None of us are."
With a flick of his wrist, the spell dissipated. The runes dimmed, the room falling silent.
Tony clapped his hands. "Well. That was ominous."
Steve was already shifting into mission mode. "Prague. We should move quickly."
Harry cracked his knuckles. "Before Hydra rolls out the welcome mat."
Natasha smirked. "I do love crashing Hydra parties."
Bucky checked his gun. "Same."
Rhodey groaned. "Great. Another European field trip where things explode."
"Now, now," Harry said cheerfully. "Let's not assume things are going to explode."
Tony shot him a look. "Harry, I remember hearing about that time you went on a mission and blew up an entire warehouse."
Harry shrugged. "In my defense, it was a very flammable warehouse."
Erica snorted. "You're the worst."
"I try."
Steve shook his head. "Alright, team. Wheels up in an hour."
As the others moved to gear up, Adler lingered, staring at the now-dormant stone. His expression was unreadable.
Harry glanced over. "You good, old man?"
Adler exhaled. "Just wondering whether I am making yet another terrible decision."
Harry grinned. "Oh, definitely."
Adler sighed. "Wonderful."
And just like that, the hunt for Erik Eisenhardt was officially on.
—
The war room at SHIELD's facility was starting to look like a weird family reunion—if your family happened to be made up of world-class superheroes, spies, and people who were a little too fond of punching things. Steve was already pacing the room, muttering to himself about mission plans. Tony, meanwhile, was lounging in his chair like it was the world's most dangerous lazy boy, fingers steepled behind his head.
"Okay, okay," Tony drawled. "So, we're bringing in backup. I mean, it's not like we can just handle this with our usual team of ridiculously overpowered super soldiers, billionaire genius inventor, and magic-happy wizard, right?"
"I was kinda hoping for a quiet day," Bucky added, staring at the map on the table like he was expecting it to sprout legs and run away.
"Relax, Bucky," Peggy said, eyeing the map as well. "We've handled worse."
Harry, who'd been listening to the banter with an air of amusement, chimed in. "Oh sure, we're professionals. We've got 'punching bad guys' covered. But when you throw in 'bending reality' and 'wizard-who-wants-to-unmake-the-world,' things get a little more… complicated."
"Sounds like a Friday night in the Wizarding World," Natasha quipped, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. "Do we just summon a floating cage and pray that Eisenhardt gets distracted by a squirrel?"
"I vote we try it," Harry said with a grin. "Maybe add some glitter for extra effect."
Steve cleared his throat, like the weight of leadership was settling back onto his shoulders. He wasn't about to let Tony's sarcasm ruin the seriousness of this. "Alright, people, listen up. We've got a major threat on our hands. Eisenhardt's no joke. We need magical muscle and physical muscle. And that's why I called in some backup."
Before anyone could ask who exactly Steve meant by "backup," the door whooshed open, and in walked a group that was less "backup" and more "here to make sure everything burns in style."
First up: Alexei Shostakov, aka the Red Guardian, looking like a grumpy bear that got dragged out of hibernation a little too early. He was wearing tactical gear that looked like it belonged to a superhero whose idea of 'fashion' involved a lot of black and very little subtlety.
Tony barely looked up from his chair. "Oh good. It's Red Army chic. How's the whole 'not being a Soviet hero' thing working out for you?"
Alexei grunted. "I'm here to fight. Not to listen to you talk about Wi-Fi. I have no idea what you mean by that."
"I'm just saying," Tony shrugged. "If you need any tech help, don't worry—I've got a couple thousand gadgets on hand that don't require you to be in a headlock to work."
"I'm good with my fists, thank you," Alexei said, cracking his knuckles loudly enough to make everyone in the room flinch.
Before anyone could respond, another figure walked in—a much older, much grumpier face. It was none other than Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, his wild, swiveling eye scanning the room like it was a field of land mines. He had his usual scowl in place, and the new vibranium leg he was sporting looked ready to kick ass and take names.
"Alright, which one of you idiots decided to play with fire and almost blow up the world? I'm not in the mood for more surprises," Moody growled, his eye darting suspiciously over the group.
"Oh, you know," Harry said casually, waving a hand, "we've been known to cause a little chaos. It's a family tradition."
Moody snorted. "Well, Potter, don't be a fool. Chaos is fine as long as it doesn't involve my leg being blown off. I'm getting too old for this nonsense."
"Good to have you, Mad-Eye," Steve said, trying to refocus the team. "We need your expertise."
"Just keep me away from the explosions," Moody grumbled.
Next up, James Potter made his entrance, looking like he had just stepped out of a Hogwarts yearbook picture, grin plastered on his face, completely unaware of how much everyone around him would suddenly straighten their backs. He took in the room with his usual charm, then zeroed in on Tony.
"Good to see you're still not responsible for destroying everything," James said, flashing a grin. "I was worried I'd have to save your butt again."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Like I need saving from a guy who wore a tie with a color scheme last seen in the '70s."
"I swear, you two are like the same person," Bucky muttered under his breath. "Annoying, but somehow tolerable."
Then, as if the family reunion wasn't enough, Sirius Black strolled in with his usual disheveled swagger, looking like he'd just rolled out of a trouble-making binge and had no intention of slowing down. He slapped Harry on the back so hard it nearly knocked him over.
"Ha! My favorite son!" Sirius said, grinning like a madman. "Didn't tell me we were hunting ghosts today. I figured that was more of a Halloween thing."
"I'm just hoping no one pulls a 'he's not really dead' thing on us," Harry said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not in the mood for resurrecting people."
"Always a buzzkill, Potter," Sirius said with a wink. "You sure know how to ruin the fun."
And finally, Clint Barton entered the room with all the fanfare of a guy who wasn't really here for fanfare. His bow was slung casually over his shoulder, and he gave everyone a brief nod.
"Just here to shoot things," Clint said flatly, leaning against the wall.
"Let me guess," Harry said, arching an eyebrow. "You going to shoot a single arrow at Eisenhardt and call it a day?"
Clint just smiled. "That's the plan."
Steve gave one last serious glance at the team, who were still trying to figure out what kind of chaotic magic was about to be unleashed. "We move in five. Get your gear on, suit up, and be ready for anything. We're heading to Prague."
"Alright, team," Harry said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's go kick some wizard ass."
With that, the team moved to prep for the mission ahead. And from the looks of it, Prague was about to find out just how much chaos a bunch of super soldiers, wizards, and one annoyingly charming billionaire could cause.
—
As the team geared up for what was supposed to be a standard mission—well, standard if you consider battling Nazis, ghostly wizards, and a giant Hydra conspiracy "standard"—Harry's phone buzzed in his pocket. Without even glancing at the screen, he could already tell who it was. He'd seen that call coming a mile away.
"Guess who?" he muttered, tapping the screen and putting it on speaker. The rest of the team, who'd been scattered around the room with their respective tasks, froze. Tony, elbows deep in some gadget that looked suspiciously like an alien weapon, raised an eyebrow. Natasha, who had been methodically sharpening her knives with the kind of precision only a spy could achieve, let out a low sigh.
Bucky, who had been adjusting his gloves—seriously, what was it with guys and gloves?—looked up, a frown tugging at the edges of his mouth. The team had learned to brace themselves when Harry decided to bring Xavier into the fold.
"Did you forget your telepathic voyeurism routine?" Harry asked, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leaned back against the table, crossing his arms like he had all the time in the world.
There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. Of course Xavier found it funny. "Harry, always so perceptive. I do hope I haven't caused too much trouble. But, yes, I couldn't help but overhear a few… details about your mission."
"Let me guess," Harry drawled, rolling his eyes. "You're gonna drop some mutant drama on us because you've been in our heads while we were planning."
"I wouldn't call it 'drama,' per se," Xavier replied, voice smooth but with a hint of sheepishness, probably because he knew Harry wasn't buying it. "I simply have information that SHIELD does not. And considering your involvement, I thought you'd appreciate it."
"I swear, if I hear 'I thought you'd appreciate it' one more time, I'm going to throw myself into the nearest fire pit," Harry grumbled under his breath. But, of course, his curiosity got the best of him. "Alright, shoot. What's the big secret that SHIELD doesn't know?"
"Eisenhardt," Xavier began, his tone shifting from playful to serious. "The man you're after? He's more connected than SHIELD realizes. He's not just some Hydra lackey. He's the uncle of Erik Lehnsherr—"
"Wait, what?" Harry interrupted, straightening up as if someone had just slapped him in the face. "Magneto? Eisenhardt is related to Magneto?"
The rest of the team had gathered around Harry at this point, their interest piqued. Tony stopped fiddling with his tech, Natasha paused mid-sharpen, and even Bucky looked up from his gloves with a slight frown.
"Yeah, turns out Eisenhardt has more baggage than a suitcase company," Harry muttered.
Xavier continued, undeterred. "Eisenhardt's is a Jew. His sister is Magneto's mother—and she was killed by the Nazis at Auschwitz. Eisenhardt allying himself with Hydra is a personal betrayal according to Erik. Magneto has been hunting him ever since. He can never forgiven his uncle for his betrayal. And now… now he's part of Hydra, the very death cult responsible for the death of his own flesh and blood."
The room went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Everyone exchanged looks as they processed the bomb Xavier had just dropped.
"Wait," Harry said after a beat, rubbing his forehead like he had a headache coming on. "Let me get this straight. Magneto—the guy who can move metal with his mind—has been hunting Eisenhardt for, what, revenge?"
"Exactly," Xavier said, his voice grave. "And Magneto is not a man to forgive. If he learns Eisenhardt is involved in any way, he won't hesitate to tear through anyone standing in his way—including SHIELD."
Tony let out a low whistle, his eyes narrowing. "Well, this mission just went from 'easy peasy' to 'definitely not easy peasy' real fast."
"Great," Bucky muttered, slipping his gloves on with a dark look. "So, now we've got to deal with a wizard, a Hydra psycho, and a super-powered mutant magnet man? Just what I always wanted."
"And here I thought it was going to be a simple ghost hunt," Clint said, strapping his bow to his back with a sigh. "Just one mission. That's all I ask for, just one mission where I don't have to face an apocalyptic level threat."
Steve cleared his throat, shooting them all a stern look. "Alright, team. Let's stay focused. Magneto's not going to make this easy, and Eisenhardt is dangerous enough without adding a wild card like Magneto into the mix. We need to stick to the plan."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Cap," Harry said with a mock salute. "But, seriously, who wouldn't want to deal with a pissed-off, metal-bending supervillain? I mean, come on. Who doesn't love a good family feud?"
Steve didn't look amused. "Keep your head in the game, Harry."
"Fine, fine," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, Cap, if this all goes to hell, I'm blaming you. You're the one who decided to invite this circus."
"One last thing before you go, Harry," Xavier's voice crackled through the speaker, breaking the tension. "If you can, try to keep Magneto from going full force. He's not just after Eisenhardt—he'll come for anyone who gets in his way, and that includes SHIELD."
"Well, that's just fantastic," Harry muttered, though he was smirking. "So now we're playing babysitter for the world's most dangerous metalhead. Great."
"Good luck," Xavier said, and with that, the call ended.
The silence hung in the air for a moment, as the gravity of what they were about to face settled in.
"Alright," Steve said, his voice carrying that no-nonsense authority that only Captain America could pull off. "Let's move out. We've got Magneto, we've got Eisenhardt, and we've got a mess to clean up. Let's get it done."
"Time to make a mess," Harry said, cracking his knuckles, his grin widening. "And trust me, it's gonna be a beautiful one."
The rest of the team was already suited up, ready for action. Bucky adjusted his metal arm, Natasha slid her knives into their holsters, and Tony checked his suit's power levels. Even Clint seemed to be in the zone, his quiver and bow set for whatever came next.
"Let's go, people," Steve ordered, leading the charge.
As they moved out, the room buzzed with a palpable energy. No one knew exactly how things would play out, but one thing was for sure: they were about to step into a whirlwind of chaos that would shake the very foundations of the world.
And Harry? Well, he was ready to burn it all down and have a hell of a time doing it.
—
The team had barely finished suiting up when Harry, always ready to make an entrance, snapped his fingers. A portal exploded into existence with all the subtlety of a fireworks display at a funeral. Colors of gold, crimson, and silver lightning swirled together like someone had set the galaxy on shuffle. And because he couldn't resist, Harry leaned casually against the shimmering edge, his armor gleaming like a disco ball designed by an over-caffeinated artist.
"Alright, team," Harry said, his smirk practically audible, "Let's crash this party. And remember: if you're not getting attention, you're doing it wrong." He flicked a finger at his own armor. "I'm practically a walking Pinterest board of badassery. You're welcome, world."
Steve, ever the serious one, shot Harry a look that could stop a charging bull. "Focus, Potter," he said, adjusting his shield. "We're here to stop a threat, not to make an entrance."
"Right, right," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Business first, then fashion tips later. But seriously—Magneto? Way cooler than Hydra. And no offense to Hydra, but the whole 'we're the bad guys' thing is a little too obvious, don't you think? Magneto could flip the planet on a whim, and we're over here fighting the equivalent of the world's most disgruntled science fair project."
Bucky, who had been silently putting on his gloves, gave Harry a side-eye. "Just try not to get us killed, alright?"
"Bucky, you wound me," Harry said, clutching his chest in mock pain. "I'll keep it at a moderate disaster level this time. No explosions. Maybe just a little chaos. You know, for flair."
Natasha, whose knives were practically an extension of her body, gave him the same blank stare that she always did when Harry was being, well, Harry. "Moderate disaster? Last time, you nearly took out an entire building, and you still haven't apologized to Fury."
"Oh, I thought I'd send him a thank-you card," Harry quipped, "You know, 'Dear Fury, sorry for the collateral damage, but hey, at least it wasn't the planet. You're welcome.'" He winked at her. "I like you, Natasha. You're my kind of nihilist."
With that, the team gathered up, ready to dive into the mission ahead. Tony, who had been fiddling with his suit and muttering to himself about how teleporting wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, spoke up, shaking his head with a grin. "Prague. Home of beer, cobblestone streets, and overpriced trinkets. You know, after we save the world again, I'll hit up the souvenir shops. Might pick up a mug or, I don't know, a shot glass with 'I survived an alien invasion and all I got was this' printed on it."
"Good luck with that," Bucky said, cracking his neck. "You've got more chance of surviving an alien invasion with one of those shot glasses than you do finding anything decent in the tourist traps here."
"Hey, I'm just saying," Tony said, eyeing the streets as they walked through an alleyway. "It'd be nice to get something useful for once. I've got a reputation to maintain, after all." He glanced at Harry's armor, adding with a smirk, "Which, by the way, looking like a walking fire hazard is definitely a choice."
"Tony," Harry said, still grinning like he just had a brilliant idea. "When the world ends and it's all burned to the ground, I'll be the only one with style. Just remember that when you're running from the rubble in your snazzy iron suit."
"Sure, sure. But I'll have shiny rubble, so it's basically a win-win."
They reached the safehouse quickly, slipping through shadows with the kind of practiced ease that only comes from being superhero-level professionals. Steve moved like a tank, precise and methodical. Natasha was practically a shadow herself, slipping through the cracks unnoticed. Clint made sarcastic remarks about how he could've used a snack before a mission, while Bucky glared at the sky like it personally offended him. Tony's voice was all too familiar in Harry's ear as he made snarky comments about Prague's architecture—always on-brand.
"So, Steve," Harry started as they neared the door to the safehouse. "Still got that thing for Peggy, huh?"
Steve's eyes flickered to him, and Harry could practically feel the tension in his posture. "We've been over this, Harry. It's complicated."
"Complicated? Oh, please," Harry said with an exaggerated eye-roll. "If by complicated, you mean 'basically a soap opera,' then sure, it's complicated. What are you guys doing, avoiding eye contact and whispering deep, heartfelt confessions to the moon? Please, just kiss and get it over with."
"Potter," Steve muttered, voice tinged with exasperation. "Focus."
Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. No prying into your tragic love life. But really, one day, you two need to have a heart-to-heart. It's adorable how you're both miserable without saying anything."
Before Steve could respond, Bucky, a few steps ahead of them, turned around. "Trust me, Harry, it's not nearly as fun as it sounds. Let them work through their mess."
Harry chuckled. "Fair enough. Focus it is. But when you two finally admit your feelings for each other, I'm going to charge you for the counseling fees."
They stopped in front of the safehouse, the door creaking open slowly. The air inside felt off, like something was watching them, waiting. Harry could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he shot a glance at Natasha, who gave him a single nod. Whatever was waiting in there, it wasn't going to be a walk in the park.
"Alright," Steve whispered, his shield at the ready, "Let's move in."
And just like that, they were off. The door creaked open, the safehouse standing like a silent sentinel, just waiting for the storm that was about to hit. Harry gave a small smile, cracking his knuckles. Time to stir up some trouble. Whatever came next, he had a feeling it was going to be legendary. And not in the good way. More like "do we really need to file a report after this?" kind of legendary.
"Here we go, team," Harry said, voice filled with a grin. "Let the chaos begin.
---
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I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007
Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:
https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s
Thank you for your support!